


Tactile

by Zoe Rayne (MontanaHarper)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-06
Updated: 2005-05-06
Packaged: 2017-10-02 11:19:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MontanaHarper/pseuds/Zoe%20Rayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two scenarios involving touch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tactile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Frostfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frostfire/gifts).



> My attempt to distract Frostfire from stressing. Totally unbeta'd and written in about ten minutes each.

**Scenario #1**

"My fingertips are numb."

Rodney looked up from where he was sitting on the opposite side of the fire to see John flexing the fingers of his right hand. "If you wouldn't try to write your mission reports longhand, you wouldn't have that problem," he said.

"Unfortunately, I think the closest internet café is in another galaxy, Rodney." John threw his pen at Rodney. He was ridiculously inaccurate with it for someone who was an excellent marksman.

Rodney held up his laptop. "Look familiar? They're _portable computers_," he spoke slowly, as if to a small child, and John glared at him. "They issued you one back on Earth?" John's glare changed to something else and he looked away from Rodney.

"Not me," John finally said. "I inherited Sumner's laptop. I...It has his personal stuff on it."

_Well, that was unexpected,_ he thought, something in his chest clenching at John's nakedly emotional admission. Every time he thought he finally had John pegged, the man went and surprised him. He set his laptop aside and crawled around the perimeter of their fire, ignoring John's raised eyebrows. When he reached the other side, he sat back on his heels and took John's right hand, turning it over so he could massage it starting with the palm.

John had the hands of a soldier: strong, with weathered calluses from handling his P-90 and newer ones from learning to fight with Teyla's sticks. Those hands could be gentle, too; Rodney shivered slightly at the sense memory of John's fingers ghosting across his bare skin.

"Cold?" John asked, with a grin that said he knew exactly what Rodney was thinking. Instead of answering him with words, Rodney leaned in and kissed the grin away.

~ * ~ * ~

**Scenario #2**

"My fingertips are numb."

John grinned at the whine in Rodney's voice. "That's what you get for running around groping Ancient devices."

"Thank you," Rodney said, and the whine was replaced by sarcasm, layered on thick, "for your deep and moving concern for my well-being."

Looking surreptitiously around to confirm that the lab was empty, John thought the door locked and then reached for Rodney's left hand. "I _was_ worried, but Beckett says you're fine."

He kissed Rodney's palm, then ran his tongue along the tender skin between Rodney's index and middle fingers and was rewarded with a gasp that arrowed straight to his dick. Closing his eyes, he sucked Rodney's first two fingers into his mouth, tasting salt and sweat and, underneath it all, a faint hint of soap. Rodney's other hand clenched on his shoulder and he drew back on Rodney's fingers, scraping his teeth lightly against them.

Rodney made another sound—a really _nice_ sound that made John think about sounds Rodney made when he was balls-deep in John, and God wasn't that a beautiful image—and then said, breathlessly, "If you stop, I'm going to have to kill you."

John stopped.

He let his best evil grin slowly creep across his face as Rodney stared wide-eyed at him, then he licked his lips purposefully and said, "Lube?"

And as Rodney moved his fingers inside John, cool and slick and making John ready for him, he seemed to have completely forgotten his earlier complaints. _Mission accomplished,_ thought John, and then Rodney's dick was pushing into him and he couldn't think at all anymore.


End file.
